


Recycled

by travels_in_time



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Comment Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 21:09:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6626386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/travels_in_time/pseuds/travels_in_time
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finch is very committed to the cause of recycling.</p><p>Prompt was "Any, any, recycling."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Recycled

"The library's supposed to be abandoned. They're not exactly making garbage runs through here, Finch."

"Which is why you'll have to find a convenient place to drop it off. Several blocks from here, preferably," Harold said reasonably. 

"Hard to look inconspicuous carrying bags of trash through the streets in a suit," John grumbled. 

Harold didn't bother to point out that John did, in fact, own other clothing. "The one in the green bag is the recycling," he said instead, as he did every time, and ignored John's inevitable eye-roll. 

It had taken John so long to object to anything at all that Harold asked of him, to say anything to a request besides, "Yes, Finch," and "Sure, Harold," that he rather enjoyed the occasional complaints. He'd taken it as a good sign when John had seemed to be slowly developing preferences of his own. Odd as it might seem, Harold felt certain that a John Reese who would pout about taking out the trash was a John Reese who was that much less likely to "accidentally" step in front of a subway train. 

"You know what they do with the recycling bins? They load them right into the trash dumpsters. I've seen them."

"Surely not," Harold said, appalled, and then pursed his mouth at the tiny twitch of his lip that was John's version of a grin. "Mr. Reese," he said severely, because Harold being pompous always made that twitch stronger. "Our responsibility to the people of New York City hardly stops with the Machine. Recycling is good for the environment. When one considers the benefit to humanity, one might even say it's good for the soul."

He was pretending not to look, but he saw the corner of John's mouth curling up as he picked up the bags, and was satisfied. As with his half-hearted complaints, John had been slow to trust Harold with his emotions, but eventually, as stifled as they still were, Harold had learned to read John's amusement, his sarcasm, his worry, with ease. A far cry from the man he'd found originally, the man dressed in cast-off rags and seemingly unable to manifest anything but despair. The man that his own colleagues had deemed disposable.

"It is rather poetic, I suppose." He knew he was rambling now, but John was used to that. "Things that are broken, used up, things that society deems worthless...those things can be redeemed, remade to serve another purpose. They can become useful and beautiful again." 

And that was probably too much. John was looking away now; where another man might be showing discomfort, his face had gone completely blank. "Never realized you were so sentimental about your trash, Finch." He headed toward the gate with the bags. 

"Yes, well." Harold fixed his gaze on the bank of monitors, giving John his privacy. "They do say that one man's trash is another man's treasure."


End file.
